


Get a Grip

by AriRashkae



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Gen, Humor, Language, M/M, Really Bad Humor, assuming you have a dirty mind, hence the m/m tag, implied tuckington, post s12
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-15
Updated: 2016-03-15
Packaged: 2018-05-26 21:40:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6256879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AriRashkae/pseuds/AriRashkae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Grif & Simmons really should know better than to try eavesdropping on Wash & Tucker.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Get a Grip

**Author's Note:**

> Something like 90% dialog on this one

“Your grip is too tight.”

“Fuck you, Wash.”

“Seriously. Loosen up and slide your hand closer to the tip.”

Grif and Simmons froze. They slowly turned their heads to stare at each other.

“Like this?”

“Good. Now try this.”

“Oh, wow. You’re right. That feels much better.”

Grif spoke first. “Please tell me that’s not what it sounds like,” he whispered. Simmons just shook his head and whispered back, “It’s Washington. There’s no way.”

“You’re still twisting your wrist too much.”

“I am not.”

“Yes, you are. You have to keep your wrist completely stiff.”

“You’re not.”

“Different shape, different technique. Try again. Relax and focus, or it’ll go flying all over the place.”

“Fiiiiiiine.”

Grif and Simmons looked at each other again. Grif inched a bit closer to the corner. “Dude, with how bad this sounds, I say we record this shit to use against them later. I could _sooo_ use something to throw in Tucker’s face after all that crap about my sister.” Simmons tried to grab him.

“That’s much better. Do it again.”

“Dude, how many times to I have to do this before I can let go?”

“Until it feels natural. Again. And stop aiming for the face.”

“Why? You’ve hit it three times already!”

“I also have a lot more experience and better aim. The body is a larger target. Trust me, it’s just as satisfying.”

Grif choked. Innuendo was one thing, but this sounded more than a little beyond that. Simmons whimpered and tugged on his arm. “We should go.” Grif edged back as they both silently agreed to _never speak of this again._

Their retreat was cut short by a loud _thunk_ and Tucker’s, “Hah! Take that, you fucking tool!” Three more _thunks_ followed in rapid succession. “Now that’s just showing off,” he whined.

“No, that’s practice,” Wash replied. “Which you will be doing for at least half an hour each day.”

Tucker groaned. “Do I have to?”

“I would like to point out this was your idea.” Wash sounded amused.

Grif and Simmons stopped, staring at each other again. After a few moments of silent arguing, they dared to peer around the corner.

Tucker was standing just on the other side, waiting for Washington, who was about twenty feet away pulling several knives out of a target. When he turned back, they could see that the target had been covered with a picture of Felix. Or at least, it _had_ been a picture of Felix.

“Oh, hi, guys!” Tucker called.

“Hiii,” Grif answered slowly. “Um, what are you guys doing?”

Wash joined them. “Tucker wanted to learn how to throw knives,” he explained, casually tossing one of the blades in the air and catching it.

Tucker threw his hands in the air. “I said I wanted you to show me a few tricks! Not suck even more time out of my already miserable life!”

“Like I said. Tucker wanted to learn to throw knives.” Wash was apparently enjoying Tucker’s distress.

“Oh, fuck you, Wash.” He folded his arms in a full-body pout.

Wash tilted his head slightly. “What did you guys think we were doing?”

The two Reds may not have been as familiar with Wash’s body language, but after so much time with Tucker, they had him down cold.

And he was laughing his ass off under that teal armor.

Simmons groaned. “You guys are fucking _assholes.”_

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to my husband for helping me tweak this.


End file.
